once a Gilmore, always a Gilmore
by SecretAgentSyd
Summary: Jess and Rory reunite, but not everything's as he expected it would be.


**once a Gilmore, always a Gilmore.  
**by SecretAgentSyd****

It's taken nearly two hours, but at 8:36 PM, he finally finds 9247 Carnation Court (the street name is enough to make him smirk), and he can barely believe the sight before him. It's by no means a mansion, but it's hardly a modest place, either. The outside lighting shows off the white siding and light blue shutters; two stories, plus probably a small attic on top; a giant bay window sticking out from the kitchen; and the well-manicured yard he thinks he's ever seen. 

(Then again, no one out where he lives really _has_ a yard.)

He turns into the driveway slowly, then pulls up behind a parked silver Ford Focus. He shuts off his engine, but he doesn't yet get out of the car. It crosses his mind that this could be a huge mistake (but he's already made the biggest mistake of his life, nearly ten years ago, so what's he got to lose, really?), and that maybe he should just turn around and go home.

But when he notices her coming down the steps, eyeing him suspiciously, Jess realizes... that he appears very stalker-like.

He pops open his door and slides out smoothly, taking a deep breath and hoping he doesn't look nervous. It only takes a minute, though, for him to see her fully, and his knees nearly give way. She looks the same as always--tall, slender, long brown hair, piercing eyes. She's even wearing a blue Oxford shirt, reminiscent of her old Chilton uniform...

And for a moment, it's all just too much for him. 

He watches as she steps up to the car, unafraid, and crosses her arms over her chest. Her blue eyes turn to ice. It's Rory, all right.

The first words out of her mouth aren't so much a greeting as they are an accusation: "So, I haven't seen _you_ in what, five years?"

"Six," he says, his voice suddenly hoarse. He wants so badly just to reach out and touch her, but something tells him that would probably not be the best idea. "Six years."

"And now you just show up on my front porch."

"Well, not technically. I'm _actually_ in your driveway." His light-hearted correction doesn't seem to amuse her.

"In my _new_ driveway. Without any warning... not that you were really ever one to give a warning about anything." (This dig makes him wince. She has a point.)

His usually trusty and always snappy wit has suddenly abandoned him, and he's certain this is some sort of karmic retribution. "Look, if this is a bad time, I can just--" 

"In my _new_ driveway," she repeats, anger still lacing her voice. She rolls those eyes of hers, then shakes her head. "How the hell did you even _find _me?"

(_Finally!_--someone else can get in trouble here.) "Your mother."

"My mother?" she scoffs. "Jess, I honestly can't believe you're doing this..." She unfolds her arms and begins speaking again, meanwhile gesticulating with her hands, and that's when he sees it. At first, it's just a flash, a sparkle, a glint, but upon closer inspection, it all becomes clear.

"You got married," he states blankly. He starts to feel dizzy. He should never have come here. What the hell was he thinking? Of course she's married; she's _Rory_, beautiful and intelligent and talented and driven, and all those other things that still has him completely in love with her. 

Whatever she's just been saying (he pretty much tuned out at the sight of her hand), his comment has stopped her mid-speech. She seems a little shocked by his statement, as if she's forgotten entirely that she's married.

"Yes, yes I did," she replies, wiggling the ring with her right hand. "Last year, actually."

She walks away abruptly, but he reaches out to grab her arm. When she turns around in response, the glance she gives him says more than anything they've ever said to each other; and he swears it says _It could have been you, it could have been me, it could have been us_... but that could be wishful thinking.

He releases her, watches as she shuffles over to her porch. She sits on the bottom step, and without a welcome, he moves to join her. There's a tension between them, a mixture of confusion, sadness, and that same old spark they've always had.

He clears his throat and turns to look directly at her. "You didn't marry--"

"Logan?" she finishes with a small smile. She seems to have accepted the fact that he's here. That, or she's just given up. Either of which is a good sign.

"I was _going_ to say Dean."

This time, Rory_ laughs_, and her previously frosty demeanor simply melts. He figures it must amuse her that, even after all this time, he's still concerned about that guy.

"No, I didn't marry Dean."

Jess pauses. He would have been content with this answer, had she not mentioned Logan. Too consumed with the idea of Dean, he didn't even consider the idea that Rory would ever marry that preppy bastard--until now. "And not Logan, either, right?"

"Nope." She looks wistful as she continues. "He never asked. I hear he's running around with a famous lawyer these days, though. Madison something or another."

"'Madison something or another?'" he echoes. "That doesn't sound very journalistic of you, Missus..."

"Gilmore," she supplies.

He notices her hand idly resting on her thigh, and during a momentary bout of insanity, he latches onto it. "I thought you were married, Missus Gilmore."

"I am, Mister Mariano," she coyly whispers, glancing down at their entwined hands. She doesn't pull back, and he wonders if maybe, just maybe, she feels it, too. Whatever _it_ is. 

"Ah. So, once a Gilmore, always a Gilmore?"

"Something like that."

A silence settles between them, and his mind fills with the idea of spending the rest of his life right here, on this porch, with her. And if she wants to get off the porch, they can do that, too. They can buy their own house, with their own fancy yard. They can get a dog--or cat, if that's what she'd prefer--and have a kid or two... anything and everything she wants.

He wonders if this would have been a possibility in any realm of reality, like one where he isn't so stupid as to ever let her go.

The sound of her voice interrupts his musings. "Plus," she begins, sitting up straight, "I refused to become 'Rory Roark.'"

Upon hearing the last name_ Roark_, Jess freezes. The universe must really hate him, considering he only ever finished that damned book for her sake. 

"Please tell me his first name isn't Howard," he says. "That would make for some pretty cruel parents."

"No, but Doug_ is_ an architect."

"You've _got_ to be kidding me."

She covers her face with her hands, as if shamed. "I couldn't believe it, either."

"Is he a political nut job, too?"

"Not at all," she returns. "But I told you, his name's Doug Roark, not Ayn Rand."

Falling into conversation with her, after all this time, is so simple, so natural. He can't believe that they have to talk about her husband, of all things, but so long as she's happy, he can at least pretend that this isn't killing him inside.

"So, where is this guy tonight?"

"Out of town, business. He's overseeing a project out in Chicago."

"And you're here, alone, because…?"

"I have work, too, you know," she returns. "I have articles for the paper to finish up."

"You went to work at a paper, not TV?"

She shrugs. "It just worked out that way. But I'm happy there, really. And I'm good at it, and it's close to home." She sounds rushed, as if what she's saying isn't really true, and the faster she gets it out, the easier it is to believe… but maybe that's just how he wants to see it. "What about you, Jess? What are you doing these days?"

"Still in Philly," he says. "And writing another book."

"Oh, I didn't ever get to tell you, but I loved _The Subsect_," she gushes, though whether it's genuine or not, he doesn't really know. "And _Furthermore_, too. Jess, they were both great, but if I had to pick one, I'd say I liked _The Subsect _more, but only because I didn't have to pay for it…"

He shakes his head at her. Sometimes she says the most ridiculous things, and yet, they're so perfect, so Rory.

"So, really," she says, using a tone indicating she's about to change the subject, "how did you find me?"

"Your mother, just like I said."

"My _mother_."

"Yeah. I dropped by your old house, in Stars Hollow, just in case…"

"_My_ _mother_, Lorelai Gilmore, told _you_, Jess Mariano, where to--"

"Think about it," he says. "She knew what she was doing. She's probably just sorry she didn't get to see the look on my face when you said, 'Hi, there, I'm married. How are you?'"

"Well, that explains the bizarre, frantic phone call involving the words 'quick, fast' and 'Peter Funt." 

(He forces a smile; her comment makes him wish this were, in fact, some strange joke.) 

"And I take it when you saw my mother you noticed something different," she goes on, as her face broadens with a secretive smile.

"I didn't want to say anything," he explains. "You know how women are about their weight, and I don't exactly have the best track record with your mom when it comes to… well, anything."

She laughs, then playfully smacks him on the arm. "By any chance, did she tell you if it's a boy or a girl? I think she knows, but she won't tell me--or Luke, or anyone, for that matter."

He shakes his head. "She said she actually didn't know if it was a boy or a girl yet, but Luke came downstairs for a bit, and we all argued about names."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Your mom picked out some pretty awful ones. If I were you, I'd definitely keep her away from the birth certificate." 

"It's her hormones… they're messing with her brain. I just hope she settles on a name before they give her the Demerol," she replies, pointing to herself. "So, is she still on the Sandrine-kick?"

He makes a face. "Unfortunately. Luke's not too keen on it, thank God. For good measure, I threw in some names."

"How thoughtful of you."

"Hey, the kid's gonna be my cousin. I don't want Luke calling one day and telling me about how he got beat up on the playground because his parents named him Fox."

"She's been staying up for _X-Files_ reruns again," she says, waving her hand. "It'll pass as soon as she finds another show."

"For the sake of that kid, it better not be _Buffy_. You could have a sister named Willow or a brother named Spike…" his voice trails off slowly. He realizes, just now, that he'll probably only see this child rarely. With his life in Philadelphia, there would be only one reason to ever consider moving back to Stars Hollow. Tonight, he's come to find he has no reason at all.

Somehow, as only Rory Gilmore can, she picks up on his distress. "I'll send pictures. And you know Luke will write and call... oh, and you never told me."

"What?"

"What names you picked. I'd like to know who to thank if my little brother gets robbed of the name Spike."

"Joshua and Claire," he tells her. "Nice, simple, won't-get-your-face-shoved-into-the-sandbox-names."

"Indeed."

"She seemed to like them, your mom, but then again, she was probably high from the excitement of you…" he stops himself, wonders how far he should go with this. He sucks in a deep breath, then finishes in a lowered voice, "…breaking my heart."

And there it is--the world shifting, just a tiny bit, in an instant. He's put himself out there entirely, now; he isn't sure if he's ever really done that in front of her at all.

"Jess…" she exhales his name between a sigh, her warm breath tickling his face. 

"I know," he says, with an unintentional twinge of bitterness. "It's been six years. What did I expect? You, pining away for me, just like I've been with you? You, waiting around for me to finally get the courage to show up here?" He runs his hand through his hair. "Maybe I didn't expect it, but, Rory, it's what I wanted."

She's clamped her jaw shut, whether it be out of fury or shock or what, he can't tell. But it's now that he's reached his breaking point.He stands up suddenly and shoves his right hand in his pocket. It still burns from her touch. "I can't take this anymore, Rory. I gotta get out of here."

With those words, he jogs off back to his car. She doesn't chase after him, and he has no idea on Earth how he's supposed to feel about that.

He opens the driver's side door and gets in, then starts the engine as quickly as possible. As he shifts into reverse, he hears a light tap on his window.

"Jess!" she's screaming, making sure he can hear her through the glass. A surge of happiness comes over him, but it's washed out quickly by his wracked nerves. _This is it_, he thinks.

He closes his eyes, then rolls down the window.

"Look, I'm sorry I showed up like this," he tells her softly, though still not looking at her. "I had no right."

"It's okay," she says, matching his voice's volume. "I'm glad you came."

"Are you?" he inquires, now looking up at her. It's cliché, and as an author, he shouldn't be thinking these sorts of things, but in all honesty, he believes he could get lost in her eyes.

She leans into the car, bringing them closer. "Yeah. I know I got mad earlier, but I--I didn't expect to see you. It caught me off guard and…" she trails off.

"And what?"

For a moment, she's got that look again, the one full of promises and what-could-have-beens, the one that tells him they still have a chance. He offered once to run away, and he's two steps away from doing it a second time. He moves in a little, so that their foreheads touch.

He isn't sure what he's expecting her to say next, but at this point, he can barely concentrate on anything more than the fact that they're close enough to kiss.

"Jess." She says his name firmly, but doesn't make an effort to move. "You know we can't do this."

"We've done it before," he whispers. (It's admittedly a last-ditch effort, a reference to something she'll probably dismiss as a teenage indiscretion, but at least this way, he can't say he didn't try.) "Besides, you chased after me."

"It's different now." To stress this fact, she places her left hand, the one with that ring, atop his car.

"Ah, but I thought you were still Rory Gilmore." (It's an indirect insult, the fact that the younger Rory wasn't always completely faithful.)

He feels her eyes bore into him. Apparently, he's struck a nerve. "I am," she assures him, "and the old Rory, maybe she… maybe she would have done it… but Jess, he never would have taken advantage of her weakness."

(For the second time tonight, she has a point.)

"Jess, you reminded me of who I really am. And here I am, now, still Rory Gilmore. I have you to thank for that."

He nods. This, he supposes he can accept; there will always be a piece of Rory Gilmore that exists only because of him. (Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, he seems only to exist because of--and for--her.)

"Just tell me one thing before I go, okay?"

"Anything."

"Do you really love this guy?"

She smiles softly. 

"Yes or no..." he continues, still struggling through his speech, "that's all I want. If you love him, I'll go, and I'll never bother you and Mister Right ever again. But, Rory, if you can't look me in the eye and say this guy's it..."

And as he feared more than anything, she glances up, stares him dead in the eye, and declares, "This guy's it, Jess."

He takes in a deep breath and nods. "Okay, then," he says. He takes the parking break off and prepares to back out of her driveway. The area between them has just gotten real awkward real fast. If only Rory Gilmore hadn't gone and gotten herself married--well, that would certainly solve most all his problems, wouldn't it?

"I guess I better get out of here," he finally manages. "So, if go straight, will that get me back towards the freeway?"

"Mmhmm," she says, backing away from his car. "You could also turn right. I think it's faster." 

"Okay, sounds good," he replies, making a mental note. "I'll just turn right."

And as Jess Mariano leaves Rory Gilmore for the last time, he swears he hears the faint whisper of her gentle voice:

_As you wish._


End file.
